The Sounds of Death
by Ally P
Summary: Warning: Character Death!! Very depressing...


Title: The Sounds of Death  
  
Author: Ally P.  
  
Email: ally@antlercreeklodge.com   
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.   
  
Archive Rights: DDFH, Agony&Exstasy, anywhere that wants it as long as they ask...   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Summary: Rogue thinks on death and her experiences with it.   
  
Feedback: Please?   
  
Pairings: L/R   
  
Warnings: Character death!   
  
Author's Notes: Oh geeze. Where did this come from?! I'm in a great mood lol. I just wanted to say that my beta (who did this over the phone, so I'm sure there are still mistakes lol) said this was incredibly sad and depressing so, if you're not in the mood for that then don't read it. :D On with the fic...  
  
  
  
The Sounds of Death  
  
There are many sounds of death. Screaming, crying, pleading. But the strongest, and the least heard is Silence.  
  
When I was first on the road I would wonder whether only the brave or perhaps only the truly terrified are silent. I used to wonder how scared you have to be to face the end of life, as you know it, to be able to die silently. Or, how you became that brave to stand quietly as they slit your throat. What could you have possibly gone through to make death so insignificant?  
  
But now I know that both are true.  
  
One thing I figured out while living at the mansion was that I was never completely terrified up at the torch. Something in my subconscious knew that Logan would be there. It knew that he would save my life or die trying. Of course I was scared out of my wits, but I wasn't scared silent; I would have been without him. If I had never met him, I would have been killed up there. Not even Hank's expertise could have saved me. But then again, if I had never met him, would I have even been at the torch? Would Sabretooth still have found me? Would I still be on the run or with the brotherhood, or would I have ended up here anyway? I could never hold it against him though. A life without him, even if I never had to go to the torch because of it, would be worse then death.  
  
Another thing I learned from living at the mansion is that Logan isn't afraid of death. He welcomes its calm cool hands into his heart. He has seen so much and lived through everything imaginable, that it's no wonder. A long time ago, when we were still "just friends," he told me that he couldn't bear to see any more people he loves die. It was that night that he told me he loved me. It was that night that he first asked me to kill him.  
  
He was so earnest. He looked so innocent and hopeful. Like a child who just wanted to ride on his father's shoulders one last time. I had learned long ago that I could deny him nothing. So I killed him. I knew I was strong and that he would always be with me. After all, I never will be alone. But, our plan had a hole in it, a small one, but one nonetheless. We never counted on his heart to start beating again. We didn't know that his body could recover from absolute death. I held on for what seemed like eternity, but the moment I let go, his heart started to beat again.  
  
During the two days he was unconscious I hadn't left his side. Not just because I didn't want to leave him, but also because I was once again shunned from my home. Even the Professor didn't seem to care if I stayed anymore. No one spoke to me. They didn't understand why, if I had set out to kill him, I would want to be there when he awoke.  
  
Jean especially ignored me. I would ask her direct questions and she would simply tune me out. The only person who did seem to understand was a girl about my age, Jubilee. She was the only other person who Logan had taken a shine to. Jubilee may act like a bouncy, happy, incredibly oblivious teenager but she had seen far more then many at the mansion in her short life. She'd bring me down meals because I noticed, after the second time I went to go get food, that the cafeteria seemed to go dead silent when I entered the room. Or any room for that matter. I was now more then ever a plague upon mutants. If I could kill my best friend who couldn't I kill?  
  
After Logan did awake the situation didn't change much. The inhabitants still flocked away from me, but they soon realized that Logan wasn't angry with me. We still were inseparable, perhaps even more so. Speculation started to go around as mean and menacing as a swarm of hornets. They claim that I begged him to let me touch him and he couldn't say no. What they didn't know that it was the exact opposite. But, we weren't about to go blabbing our secrets, so we let them think what they will. They would have anyway. Who would think that the invulnerable, immortal Wolverine would wish for death beyond all else? He commented once that death was his only mistress. She was the only one who could set him loose from his everlasting cage.  
  
Not long after the first time I killed him, however temporarily, he asked me to try again. I had nodded slowly as he had drawn off my glove. Something was different in the air. I didn't know what it was at the time, and if he did he didn't say anything. I promised him I would hold on for ten minutes after his heart had stopped. I could only nod as tears already were streaming down my cheeks. Somehow I already knew the outcome. He smiled at me, and kissed my tears away and whispered something in my ear. Lying on the bed, he held out his arm for me to grasp, but I didn't want it to end so impersonally. So, I lay down next to him, placed my lips against his forehead, and kissed him to death.  
  
Soon after the funeral, I was sitting on the back porch swing overlooking the woods. I heard soft steps approaching, turning to look I wasn't surprised to see Jubilee standing there. Sliding over, I offered her the seat. We sat there awhile in silence, just enjoying the company and the quiet sounds of nature. Time passed without meaning to us as we remembered Logan and how he was. At the time I wasn't sure if Jubilee understood why I did it, but I did know that she knew that I didn't want to. But, how can you deny the one you love, the thing they want most in the world? Suddenly she spoke.  
  
"What were his last words?" I was stunned by her question. Should I answer her? Would he want her to know? After minutes past I gathered my courage and spoke slowly so I would never have to repeat them again.  
  
"Thank you." 


End file.
